


Under the Sea

by SterlingAg



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Merpeople, Beta Derek, LiveJournal, M/M, Prince Stiles, Sterek Big Bang
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-07
Updated: 2014-01-07
Packaged: 2018-01-07 20:39:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1124148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SterlingAg/pseuds/SterlingAg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek Hale lost everything to the fire. His family, his home, his life--all of it. He was literally a man with nothing to lose. Trying to escape from his own wounds, he ends up on the coast. Never once did he think that the ocean held as many secrets as it did. Or that those secrets would literally drag him to the bottom of the ocean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The autumn sun slowly fell over the horizon as the forest started to shift from day to night. Smaller animals, like rabbits and the occasional mole, were skittering to their burrows. A small fawn and her mother were grazing near the stream on acorns and grass. The little fawn’s ears twitched back and she raised her head as she heard something running through the forest. Twigs breaking and leaves crunching alerted the doe to the presence of something larger approaching them. It was moving quickly—much faster than any buck out foraging on his own. But it didn’t sound like anything the doe had ever heard. The rhythm of the movement told her that the creature was moving on four legs. The doe positioned herself in front of her fawn and they moved towards the edge of the clearing that the stream ran through. 

The approaching creature broke through the edge of the clearing, leaping from a small cliff that had formed over years of the stream cutting through the earth. The doe and fawn startled and bolted from the clearing, rushing to find sanctuary in the dense forest. The doe had never seen anything like the creature. It moved as if it was one with nature, smelled of the earth and sweat, and yet it had the shape of a different creature entirely—a human. The doe didn’t dwell on it too long. She was only concerned with her own survival and the survival of her fawn. 

Derek Hale soared through the air as he threw himself off of the cliff. His arms and legs were stretched in front of his body and he idly thought he might look like a kite, pulling tight at its strings. He inhaled deeply, feeling the scents of the forest invade his entire body. The wind pushed through his hair as he began to fall back towards the ground. He had been running for hours—something he hadn’t done for a long time. He had gone for jogs in the reserve around his house, but not like this. He was running, body crouched down and moving on all fours. He felt his wolf brimming just at the surface. 

A satisfied growl escaped his throat as he thudded against the ground on the other side of the stream. His fingers curled in the softer ground, dirt getting trapped beneath his slightly extended claws. It wasn’t that he felt in danger, he just felt exhilarated like he hadn’t in a long time. Probably not since the fire at least. Derek quickly pushed that feeling down and propelled himself back in to motion. He could feel his feet thundering against the ground and his claws left small indents in the soil each time he bounded forward.

Derek ran until the trees ended and he found himself at the edge of the beach. He hadn’t even noticed the change in the air. He felt the ocean breeze hit against his skin. He was panting from his run. How had he not noticed running so far? He must have let the wolf take over more than he had thought. Derek inhaled deeply, forcing his lungs to expand to their fullest. The salt in the air was overpowering to his heightened senses. It was a biting scent that hit Derek’s nose sharply. He opened his mouth and even the air tasted of salt. The scent was so different from the lingering smell of smoke that Derek swore permeated the air around his home. Here, his tongue was laden with the aftertaste of salt and not heavy with imagined ash.

Derek shook his head. He had gone on the run to clear his head in the first place. It would do him no good to think about home and Beacon Hills now. He wasn’t running away from his problem, at least that’s what he kept telling himself. Derek Hale didn’t have problems—he didn’t have anything. He felt his lip rise in a sneer and he quickly pulled his shirt up over his head. He was at the ocean; he might as well go for a swim. Besides, it would do his muscles some good to change which ones were being used. Running used a lot of muscles—especially the four-legged run—but swimming used a completely different set of them. Derek didn’t want any of his muscles to become dulled and swimming was a more fun way of working out his body.

Derek took off his shoes and put them on his shirt. He left his pants on—not because anyone would see him since the beach was deserted, but just because he didn’t feel the need to take them off. He walked to the water, the waves gently lapping at his feet. Derek was surprised the water didn’t feel colder. It was mid-August and the air temperatures were already dropping due to the oncoming winter. But, he supposed, when you had an unnaturally high body temperature, the water would have to be really cold for Derek to even begin to feel chilled. 

Derek continued to walk out in to the ocean until it was deep enough that he could swim. He dove under and streamlined for a moment before surfacing and beginning to swim. His arms moved powerfully through the surf, beating against the current with ease. The salt water cooled his body and relaxed his muscles after his run. The ocean muffled the sounds as his ears dipped underneath with each stroke. He dove under once again and just kicked with his legs, reveling in the silence that surrounded him. 

Derek floated back up to the surface and tread in the water for a moment. He turned around and glanced back at the shore. He had gone out quite a ways. He supposed he should probably swim back and start heading home. But oddly enough, he had no desire to do such a thing. Perhaps he would stay out tonight. He hadn’t camped outside since he was a boy. He remembered his family taking trips as a pack. They would just run wild in the reserve and stay out and sleep under the stars, all curled up against each other.

Derek once more pushed back memories of his family. He would think about them in the future, but now just wasn’t that time. Instead of swimming back to shore, Derek pulled his feet up and floated on his back. He was slightly aware of the cold beginning to slowly seep in to his skin. He stared up at the sky as it began to change from orange and red of the sunset to the darker green and navy blues that held the night. His ears picked up on a sound in the silence of the ocean and he felt small ripples hit his skin. He brushed it off as a bird landing near him and continued to watch the sky transition.

After about five minutes of watching the sky, Derek released the air from his lungs and allowed his body to sink underneath the surf. He was surrounded by the water and silence fell over his ears. His entire body calmed as he floated just below the surface. The void that was the ocean calmed him and he focused on the steady thrum of his heart. He heard another splash in the silence and he blinked his eyes open. He quickly shut them—cursing himself for forgetting the ocean had a large portion of salt in it. He strained his ears and stilled in the water. Perhaps he should surface again. Deciding this was one of his better ideas of the night, he straightened in the water and began to kick towards the surface.

His head was just about to breech the surface when he felt something touch his ankle. With a flustered kick, Derek pushed his head above the water. He looked around in the water for what might have just touched him. His eyes only fell on the darkness of the ocean. A chill ran down his spine and Derek decided it was time to get out of the water. He leaned forward and began to stroke towards shore. He was able to swim about five feet before strong fingers wrapped around Derek’s ankle and pulled hard.

Derek was only able to get a shallow breath before he was under the water. His eyes stung before he forced them shut. He kicked against the grip on his ankle, but a second hand attached to his other leg and held him steady. Derek was being pulled deeper and deeper in to the water, the pressure pressing against his ears. He struggled as best he could, but his lungs burned with need for air. His consciousness slipped away from him. His body went limp as his last breaths escaped his lungs in a great cluster of bubbles. The bubbles raced to the surface while Derek sank in to the dark depths of the ocean.

 

“Oh my god,” shrieked a voice, “What did you do?”

“I didn’t—hey! This was your idea in the first place!” A second voice angrily answered.

“I never said to actually bring someone back here!”

“Yes you did! You said, if you’re so great why not bring someone here to prove it!”

“Yeah well—I didn’t think you would actually do it!”

“Lydia!”

“Stiles!”

“Oh my god,” the male voice—Stiles—groaned dramatically, “What am I supposed to do now? I can’t just take him back!”

“Don’t look at me,” hissed the female voice—Lydia—as she crossed her arms over her chest with the shuffle of fabric, “I am in no way involved or a part of this disaster,”

Stiles groaned again, “Lydia you can’t just walk out on this!”

“Oh yes I ca—“ Her voice was cut off by a scream. Quickly following this there was a blur of movement. 

“Stiles!” Lydia yelled.

Stiles’ eyes widened as he took in what had happened. He felt a great pressure on his throat and realized that a clawed hand was perched precariously across the flesh there.

“Anyone moves,” came the gruff response, “and I tear out his throat,”

“Hey listen mister,” the boy said, “We don’t want any trouble,”

“Where are we?” he growled out.

“About one league below the Farallon Islands,”

“One league? That’s impossible—the pressure would crush us,”

“I’m telling the truth!” Stiles squirmed and tried to pull away from where he was being held. After a moment, the claws that had been pressed against Stiles’ throat dulled back to those of normal human nails. The hold on Stiles also loosened and the boy scrambled away to stand in front of the girl.

“You weren’t lying,” Derek said lowly, “But then what the hell is going on here?”

“My name is Stiles,” the boy said pointing to himself before sweeping his hand behind him to gesture at the girl, “And this is Lydia. We’re nereids. Or as the surface people call us—“

“—merfolk,” Derek murmured. Stiles nodded silently and Derek allowed himself a moment to really look at the two teenagers before him.

The girl, Lydia, had long strawberry blonde hair. It fell in waves over her shoulders and down her back. Her eyes, while a bright light brown, were sharp and calculating like a predator. The first thing supernatural that Derek noticed about her was her ears. Instead of the rounded shell that humans had, her ears fanned back in spines. The top spine came up and was slightly elfish. But the membrane stretched down to a small middle point and then continued down to a much longer bottom spine. The structure itself was beautiful and delicate, but dangerous at the same time. Derek was fairly sure he spotted the flaps of gills behind the ears.

As if she knew he was picking her apart, Lydia smiled at Derek. That was non-human thing number two—her teeth. Her mouth was filled with many, small razor sharp teeth. There was no doubt in Derek’s mind that those would be more than sufficient in biting in to hard scales, tough crustaceans, and especially soft werewolf flesh. Well, if that wasn’t a threat, Derek didn’t know what was.

His eyes continued to look her over. He couldn’t see much more of her physical body because of the clothing she wore. You would think that since they were underwater, they wouldn’t wear much clothing at all. But no, she looked like a fairly ordinary—if not fashionable—teenager. Her dress was a simple, dark navy high-low. It hung off her body just so that made it look feminine but also easy to maneuver through the water. Her feet however, were bare.

“So,” Lydia began with a flick of her hair, “What are you supposed to be? You could start with your name,”

“Derek,” he answered after a moment.

“Well, Derek, what were you doing up there? It’s much too cold for humans to be swimming. Unless,” her eyes racked over his body speculatively, “You’re a little less human than you look,”

Derek felt his lip rise in a sneer and a growl sound low in his throat. Lydia’s eyes widened momentarily before she smoothed her features once again.

“It would seem those sparkling green eyes of yours hold plenty of secrets,” she purred. She placed a well-manicured hand on Stiles’ shoulder.

“Some of us have things to do. We’re still on for dinner right?” With that, Lydia kissed Stiles on the cheek and turned away from him.

“Wait, Lydia! Are you—“

“I’m not going to tell anyone,” she interrupted, “Not yet at least,”

Stiles frowned momentarily, “But what am I supposed to do with him?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugged elegantly, “Why not teach him to shake or roll over?” The gleam in her eyes was wicked and the quirk of her lips all-knowing. She gave a small, dismissing wave before jumping in to a small pool in the corner of the room. That must be how all of the rooms were connected, Derek thought.

Stiles let out a frustrated breath. He scrubbed his palms over his face and pushed them up in to his short hair. Derek looked at Stiles now. He was different from Lydia. His eyes were a deep—and seemingly endless—honey colour. But they were calculating in a different manner. Derek noticed Stiles’ ears were different than Lydia’s. Lydia’s were long yet deadly with the spines. Stiles’ ears weren’t nearly as large. While they were spined, they were more structured and rectangular than Lydia’s organic ears. Derek only noticed one gill flap as compared to Lydia’s many. Perhaps it was a difference between male and female. But even Stiles’ skin was a different tint than Lydia’s. 

Lydia’s skin was smooth and flawless, with pink and healthy undertones that made her look more human than fish. Stiles’ skin was peppered with little black moles and was very pale, seeming almost grey if you squinted while looking at him. Derek followed a line of moles down Stiles’ neck and arm. His eyes fell on the outside of his arm. It looked like there were fins there. However they weren’t very large and didn’t seem to be of much use. Perhaps they flared whenever Stiles was in the water or needed to use them as a defense mechanism. There was no way for Derek to know really, other than ask, which was not going to happen in the near future. Derek also noticed the light webbing between Stiles’ fingers. That definitely hadn’t been the case with Lydia.

“So um,” Stiles mumbled, “Are you hungry or anything? Ah—sorry,” Stiles rubbed at the back of his head and looked around the room, “I don’t have anything in here for you to eat,”

“Not hungry,” Derek huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. His chest, which he realized, was still bare. He noted how Stiles blanched when he took in Derek’s defensive and intimidating position. With a note of satisfaction, Derek inhaled and straightened his back to grow even larger.

“Right well,” Stiles swallowed thickly and Derek’s eyes traced the movement.

“Why did you bring me here?” 

Stiles looked back at Derek, “Straight to the questions huh?” Derek gave him an unimpressed stare and Stiles cleared his throat.

“Okay, I guess you deserve at least an explanation,” Stiles took in a deep breath and raspberried his lips before he began, “On the surface they have stories of sailors and people spotting mermaids right? Well, that’s just us playing tricks. We’re mischievous by nature—although I wouldn’t give it such a negative term. One of our favorite tricks is to bring something from the surface back. It’s a rite of passage more or less. There are always these stories of how what you bring back determines your way of life here. They say that some nereids who grew in to great leaders brought back humans with them. Not just their clothes, or something they had with them—the _entire_ human! So um, I wanted to see if I could do that.

“But I was an idiot and went way too late. So it was too cold and no one was around. I didn’t even go to a heavily populated beach. I was just about to give up when you came out of the forest. I watched you for a bit—wow way to be creepy Stilinski—and I figured it was all or nothing. Um, I probably shouldn’t have done that. I may have gone a little bit overboard. So, I should probably apologize for that. So yeah. Sorry for dragging you down here and nearly drowning you in the ocean, Derek,” Stiles finished as he looked up at Derek from under his eyelashes. It was very similar to a kid preparing to be scolded by a parent.

Derek let out a huff of breath and pulled one of his arms out of the cross. He rubbed it over his chin thoughtfully. He couldn’t blame the kid. When Derek had been a teenager he was doing more stupid things than kidnapping. Accessory to murder was his crowd unfortunately. His hand migrated upward and he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“How do I get back?” He asked after he had decided on his answer.

Stiles pulled his lower lip in to his mouth and worried at it with his teeth a bit, “Well, about that—actually,”

“Stiles,” Derek hissed, “How do I get back?”

“You can’t leave,” Stiles mumbled after a moment.

A growl began in Derek’s throat and his knew his eyes were flashing blue, “Stiles,” he warned lowly.

“I’m sorry!” Stiles held up his hands in front of him—as if that would protect him, “This is the first time that a human—or whatever you are—has been brought down here that didn’t want to stay. I would have to clear it with the Council to let you go back to the surface,”

Derek knew all too well about the danger of exposing the supernatural. He was a werewolf for crying out loud. But just because he was acquainted with the idea of secrecy for the sake of your own kind, didn’t mean he had to be okay with it. Derek’s anger peaked and he once again was threatening bodily harm to Stiles. The larger man was upon Stiles in an instant, his hands wrapped in his thin t-shirt and pushing him up against a wall.

“You get me home,” he whispered through clenched teeth, “Or I will rip your throat out—with my teeth,”

Derek smelled the emotion before he saw it in Stiles—the sharp, iron scent of anger. Stiles blinked without his eyes moving, something like a second pair of eyelids. His honey eyes darkened to a caramel brown and his mouth tightened in to a thin line.

“I may be built for speed,” he said in a low, controlled tone, “But don’t for one second think that this lithe body can’t protect itself,” He raised one hand and wrapped it around Derek’s wrist that was grabbing on to Stiles’ shirt. The fin that Derek had noticed earlier was flared now and protruded about an inch and a half from Stiles’ outer forearm. It was ribbed like a fish’s dorsal fin, with small spines as added weaponry. 

Derek threw his grip off but did not back away from Stiles. Instead, he leaned forward even further in to his space.

“Talk to your Council before I talk to them myself,” he hissed. Stiles did not frown and he did not sneer. He simply turned away from Derek and disappeared the same way that Lydia had through the pool of crystal blue water.

 

Derek didn’t see much of Stiles for the next few days. He would be in the room when Derek awoke. Mainly Stiles would be sitting at the desk, hunched over papers and muttering to himself. Derek would generally ignore the boy in favor of the food he would bring with him. It always looked strange—one league under the ocean strange. But it always tasted fine. 

There was one treat that Derek was particularly fond of. It was the size of a peach that had the skin of an apple. It was a light fuchsia with speckles of yellow all over it. Every bite caused juice to fill Derek’s mouth. It was rich with flavors Derek had never tasted before. Not to mention it was sweet—Derek’s ultimate weakness. Stiles must have noticed because after a few days, Derek woke up to find a small bowl filled with the strange fruits on the corner of the desk. If Derek had one every morning, well, that was just for him to know about, now wasn’t it?

Derek would be bored out of his mind if it weren’t for the insane amount of books that Stiles had amassed. The entire wall opposite the bed was covered in books. Some of them were written in a language that Derek had never seen before. It reminded him of the ancient language weres had created in order to remain hidden while sharing history and information. Perhaps this was the same thing. Either way, Derek couldn’t read those books at the moment. He didn’t want to think that he would be sticking around long enough to learn the language. But if he got bored enough, one archaic language couldn’t be too hard to figure out.

In the meantime, Derek just grabbed a book and started to read. Luckily for Derek, it was a book about the Farallon Islands. According to Stiles, where they were now was somewhere underneath the Islands. While the Islands had been known to the American Indians in the Bay Area of San Francisco, it was believed to be Sir Francis Drake who first landed on the islands in 1578. In 1603, Spanish explorer Sebastian Vizcaino charted the islands named them the “Farallones” which translated to “rocks out of the sea.” During that time there was a large demand for fur trading and the islands were exploited by seal hunters from New England and later from Russia.

There was development on the Islands during the 1800s including a lighthouse constructed on the south east island. As the city of San Francisco grew nearby, there was a large demand for eggs that were collected from local seabird populations. This caused conflict between lighthouse keepers and egg collecting companies on the mainland. Along with the hostilities over eggs and the threat of oil spills from shipping lanes, President Theodore Roosevelt signed an order that created the Farallon Reservation that protected the northern islands in 1909. Sixty years later, the order was expanded and the reservation’s protection expanded to the other islands and became known as the National Wildlife Refuge.

Apparently the islands were now closed to the public. Which made it the perfect place for a kingdom of merfolk to live on, Derek mused. There weren’t many people there to discover them except for the few birders and wildlife enthusiasts that could approach the islands on whale watching boats. There are three islands in the system, the Southeast (SEFI), Middle (MFI), and North (NFI) Islands and an area called the Fanny Shoal. Derek would have to ask Stiles where exactly the kingdom was or how far it stretched under the island chain. Or he could just figure it out himself, he was pretty sure it was in one of the books on the shelf.

Derek grabbed a second book. This one was older than the book on the Islands. It was bound in durable leather and the lettering on the spine and front was done in elegant gold etching. Derek pushed his thumb carefully under the cover and opened the book. He was immediately rewarded with the release of lignin and vanillin. He inhaled slowly and deeply and let the scent of vanilla fill his senses for a moment. It reminded him of late nights in the study, curled around a book in the big chair that smelled like his dad. It took him to times covered in flour as he and Laura ended up fighting while helping their mother bake. Derek sighed and opened his eyes only to be harshly reminded that he was a captive in a strange place under the ocean off the coast of California.  
The script on the front page of the book read _”Ka’Lyrin Kingdom”_. Underneath it was a quick note that said “Sea’s Song.” Derek ran his fingers over the note and realized with a snort that it had to be Stiles’ handwriting. Derek placed the book down and pulled the desk chair out. He sat down as he flipped the page to begin reading. Derek quickly realized that the story was about an underwater kingdom. He couldn’t be sure if it was the story of where he was now though.

The story began with a legend. It told of a brave sailor who wanted to chart the entire sea. He was a strong-willed man of high moral standing. He treated the men of his crew fairly and without any personal prejudice. He claimed to any who would listen that the sea was his home and his only, one true love.

Word of the sailor’s hubris soon reached those closely tied to the ocean itself. Derek couldn’t pronounce the names of the people even if he had wanted to. Stiles had drawn a line to the border of the page and scrawled a few names there. Derek recognized “Poseidon” and “Calypso.” He assumed those were the equivalents of the names in the text. Stiles had done some serious cross-referencing. Derek continued on with the legend with the new information on the characters.

Apparently, there were two very different reactions to the sailor’s words. Calypso, the maiden of the sea, was enamored with the sailor. She favored him over all the others who traveled the seas. She provided him with strong, steady winds and smooth waters. She trapped countless pirates and marauders that tried to harm the sailor.

However, there was another of the sea who was not nearly as taken with the sailor as Calypso was. That would have been Poseidon, the god of the sea. He felt that the sailor was too full of himself. Who was he to say that the seas were the only place for him? Poseidon was the ruler of the seas—not some lowly human who thought himself better than even the gods. Not to mention how furious Poseidon was at how easily this human man had stolen Calypso’s heart. For millennia, the sea god had been trying to win the affections of the maiden. But she was as wild and untamable as the sea itself.

So Poseidon decided to teach a lesson to the sailor and all who would come after him. Poseidon created a storm—the largest and most terrible storm that had ever raged all of the seas. Waves that towered high over even the tallest of boats crashed down with thunderous booms. Maelstroms opened in the waters and threatened to swallow any vessel that dared to travel the seas. The sky was a dark, angry black that foretold of certain doom. But did this stop the sailor? Of course not, Derek thought with a scoff. Thinking luck was on his side, the sailor sailed out in to the waters even during the storm. But even Calypso could not go against Poseidon. With limited visibility, the sailor ran in to an outcropping of rocks and his vessel sank, taking him and his crew down with it. Calypso was so distraught over the sailor’s death, she cried and cried. It was said that her wails of sorrow could be heard on the wind. Calypso took pity on the man and instead of letting him be crushed by the pressure of the ocean, she turned him in to something that could live in the seas. She made him half man, and half fish—thus creating the race of merfolk. His ship’s wrecked hull became the base of a city the sailor built. He called it the Ka’Lyrin Kingdom. Ka’Lyrin—according to Stiles’ notes—meant “Sea’s Song” in the language of the merfolk.  
The book went on to describe different things about the Ka’Lyrin Kingdom. The structure of the kingdom was very disconnected. The palace sat far from the majority of the citizens of the kingdom. A small map had been sketched in the upper corner of the page. A square labeled “palace” was connected to another labeled “market” with “royal” and “guard” in boxes not far from the palace. Farther out, connected to the “market” square was a rectangle labeled “shops/living/town.” Derek touched the square labeled “palace” and followed the ink that was even farther to the left that was labeled “home sweet home.” Derek frowned slightly. What was that supposed to mean?

The next section in the book was about the hierarchy of the Ka’Lyrin Kingdom. It was a basic, triangular hierarchy where the higher up on the pyramid there were the fewer people. The levels from top to bottom went royalty, shamans/healers, nobles, guard/soldiers, merchants, townsfolk, and other. Scrawled in what appeared to be angry handwriting was the word “slaves.” So this place still had slaves, Derek thought. He wondered absently where Stiles and Lydia fell in this pyramid. Not that he particularly cared, that is.

Derek continued to read in the book and realized that it was composed of the history of many different merfolk settlements. They were all over the world. But, he supposed, that made sense. Werewolves were also all across the globe—why not other supernatural beings as well? He made his way slowly through the lore until he came upon a section that seemed to be well read. The pages were torn and folded on the corners. The pages fell open like the part of this book was read often. Curious, Derek focused in on the words on the page.

This part was on a kingdom called Hiems’ Obtutus. It translated roughly to “Winter’s Gaze.” This kingdom was settled farther north somewhere between Alaska and Russia. Small notes mentioned places like Seguam and Amukta. There was even a mention of the Fox Islands. The Hiems’ Obtutus Kingdom sat deep in a trench just near the Amukta Pass. It made it very safe and quite defensible. The book mentioned that Hiems’ Obtutus was one of the safest of all merfolk settlements. But because of the harsh climates of the water, it was difficult for many merfolk to live in. Unlike the more tropical waters, the waters of Hiems’ Obtutus were dark and didn’t have much in the ways of food. Mostly, the citizens depended on the treaties made with other kingdoms and the offerings of the natives on islands near the Pass.

Another map sat neatly sketched at the bottom of the page. Between two lines on the left and right sides labeled “Amukta Pass” there was an octagonal design. In the center was a square with the word “palace” on it. It connected to the outer squares with “royals,” “guards,” “market,” and “town.” Even surrounding those, along the lines of the Pass, were four more squares with “guards” on them that covered all four corners of the kingdom. The book continued to outline that there was an even distribution of power between the royals, merchants, and townsfolk. There was no mention of slaves or servants for that matter.

Derek turned the page gently with his thumb and something fell out of the book. He blinked and looked down at the scrap of paper now on the floor. He bent over and picked it up. It was actually an old photo. The material was a little different from photographs on land, but it was a photo nonetheless. There were three people in the picture. A man, woman, and a teenage boy. The man was holding the boy in a headlock and giving him a noogie. The boy’s nose was scrunched up but his eyes were smiling. The woman was laughing, her hand in front of her mouth in a poor attempt to hide the sound. It was such a gentle, happy picture. Why was it hidden away in a book? Derek turned the photo over in his hands and read the back. There, once more in Stiles’ handwriting, were the words “Home. 1901.” Derek blinked at the date and flipped the picture back over. Stiles looked only a few years younger in the photo than he did now. Derek frowned. He had a vague memory of Peter saying something about how some supernatural creatures could live for a very long time. He had mentioned unicorns, trolls, and dragons—had merfolk been on that list?

Derek set the picture back in to the book and closed it. He grabbed a fruit from the bowl and sat back. He took a bite and chewed absently. He couldn’t help but be curious about everything that was happening. If the situation were to ever shift against his favor, he would need to have as much information as possible. He hummed in his throat and took another bite, turning the chair away from the desk.

 

“So,” Stiles prompted one night. He turned the chair from the desk and looked at Derek who was reading on the bed, “What’s the surface like?”

Derek glanced up at him before looked back down at the text on the page, “Dry,”

“Har har,” Stiles replied with a dramatic roll of his eyes, “Someone thinks he’s funny. But no seriously, what’s it like up there? What does it look like? What’s the weather like? Have you ever seen snow? What about the people?”

Derek sighed and closed his book. He sat up and leaned back against the headboard of the bed.

“If we’re going to play Q & A, you have to answer my questions too. I’ll answer one of your questions and then you’ll answer one of mine, got it?”

Stiles pouted and looked like a petulant child, but nodded anyway, “Fine. Um, what’s the weather like on the surface?”

“It depends,” Derek answered, “A lot like the sea, the climate depends on where you are. This place is near California which is on North America. Generally it’s warm in the entire state, but in the northernmost parts of the state it can get cold enough to snow,”

“Really? So you’ve seen snow?” Stiles asked excitedly.

Derek held up his hand, “I’ll let it slide this time. Yes, I saw lots of snow when I lived in New York. Now it’s my turn to ask a question,”

“All right, ask away!”

“Where are we?” Derek asked.

Stiles looked sorely disappointed, “Out of all the questions and that’s the one you ask?”

Derek just looked at him flatly. Stiles sighed dramatically and rolled his head on his neck.

“We’re just at the edge of the Ka’Lyrin Kingdom. What’s it like to live on the surface?”

Derek thought for a moment, “It’s dangerous. There are people out there who would hunt you down and kill you just because they fear you. The world is dirty and falling apart and no one is doing anything to fix it. Sorry, but the world on the surface actually sucks something fierce,”

“Oh,” Stiles mumbled. He chewed on his bottom lip and then looked back up at Derek.

“It’s your question,” he said.

“Right,” Derek blinked, “Where are you from?”

“So you figured that much out already?” Stiles smiled bitterly, “I’m not from around here. My birth place is actually much farther north—it’s called Hiems’ Obtutus,”

Derek nodded, “Then why are you here?”

“Ah,” Stiles pointed a finger at him, “That’s two questions,”

Derek frowned and nearly glared at Stiles. But the boy just chuckled and shrugged.

“I guess I’ll let it slide,” he said, mimicking Derek from earlier, “I’m here because of a really old treaty made between the kingdoms. At one time, Hiems’ Obtutus was on the verge of collapse because there wasn’t enough food for the people of the kingdom. They pleaded for help but no one would because there was nothing for them to gain. Well, that’s except for the royalty of Ka’Lyrin. Apparently, for a few generations, the royalty had only been giving birth to females and thus lacked male heirs to the crown. The royal lineage was slowly slipping.

“However, the exact opposite was to be said of the royalty of Hiems’ Obtutus. Strong males were prominent in the line. So, to keep the bloodline pure, Ka’Lyrin would give food to the Hiems’ Obtutus kingdom in exchange for a one male of the royal bloodline every 300 years,”

Derek’s eyebrows rose in question, but he held his tongue. Stiles, realizing it was his question, sighed and chewed on his thumbnail.

“Okay,” he mumbled around the nail, “So, um, what exactly are you?”

A reasonable enough question, Derek thought. 

“A werewolf,” he answered plainly.

Derek watched as Stiles’ eyes widened and nearly bugged out of his head. It reminded Derek of his younger cousins, how they would look at everything with wonder and curiosity. A knot formed in Derek’s stomach and he tried to push the memory away.

Derek turned back to look at Stiles. The boy was still seeming to be digesting the information he had been given. 

“You mean,” he began, “That werewolves actually exist? I never thought—what I mean is—how can you really be real?”

Derek snorted derisively, “As of a week ago, I would have said the same thing about you,”

Stiles pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes at the larger man, “So you’re telling me that you have superhuman strength, speed, and change in to a crazy wild thing once a month?”

“Don’t forget the heightened senses,” Derek joked lightly, “But no, I have more control than you think. I can control the shift during the full moon, thank you very much.” 

“Show me!” Stiles said, sitting forward in his seat. He seemed like he would vibrate right out of his skin with excitement.

“What?”

“I want to see!” Stiles nearly shouted.

Derek just stared at Stiles for a moment.

“Seriously?” He asked. Stiles’ only reply was a series of violent and rapid nods that gave Derek a headache just from watching. Derek sighed and shrugged his shoulders in resignation. Might as well, maybe it would make Stiles realize just how dangerous Derek was. Then the boy would pick up the pace on getting him back to the surface.

Derek drew in a deep breath and closed his eyes. It was easy to change when there was danger around—his instincts just took over. His anchor to keep him human was his anger. So usually he was just angry all the time in order to control the shift easier. So he cleared his mind of any and all thoughts. He focused on the ever glowing ember that was his anger and frustration. He visualized it as a small flame from a candle. But as he focused on it, it began to grow slowly but steadily. Soon it was as if a torch was burning inside of him. It warmed him and brought him strength—that was the shift.

He opened his eyes and it was as if he could feel the icy blue color in them. It wasn’t something he wanted to be reminded of—as if he didn’t already have enough ghosts. The sudden sharpness to the colours in the room comforted Derek in the way that his shift always did. The crisp scent of salt and the sweetness of the fruit in the bowl entered his nose. Even the sheets beneath him felt smoother. He turned his gaze on Stiles. Derek noticed small things about the merman that he had previously missed. Moisture clung to Stiles on his skin and to the ends of his eyelashes. Derek watched the gills behind Stiles’ ears flutter absently—not that he was using them at the moment. It reminded Derek of someone wiggling their ears or flaring their nostrils. It was a movement out of idleness, not necessity.

Stiles stood up from the desk and moved over to where Derek was sitting on the bed. The mattress dipped from the added weight. Stiles leaned forward. His lips were parted slightly in amazement. His honey eyes sparkled with curiosity and questions brimmed at the tip of his tongue. But Stiles opted for silence for once in his life. For some reason, as much as he wanted answers, he couldn’t come up with the right words. He reached up and noticed Derek flinch away ever so slightly from him. Stiles paused but Derek didn’t pull back. His crystalline blue eyes were wary as he remained stiff in anticipation for Stiles’ next move.

However, Derek couldn’t have been more surprised. Stiles reached up and with the gentlest of touches, cupped Derek’s face in his palms. Derek expected Stiles to feel slimy like a fish. But he seemed just as human as Derek did—which, he supposed, wasn’t saying much. Stiles’ skin, while being a little cooler than Derek’s, was soft and uncalloused. Stiles’ eyes looked over every inch of Derek’s face, taking in the shift. The honey amber orbs darted this way and that, as if he couldn’t take everything in all at once. He slid his palm back so that his fingers brushed against the shell of Derek’s ear. Stiles’ thumb nestled in the hollow under Derek’s eye. The younger male gingerly brushed across the underneath of Derek’s eye.  
“Beautiful,” Stiles breathed and Derek would deny ever thinking that maybe what Stiles had said was true.


	2. Chapter 2

Derek let his head fall back against the pillow. He glared at the book in his hand. There was no doubt that he would go crazy if he stayed in this room any longer. For the past couple of days he had been reduced to a mind numbing routine. Wake up, eat breakfast, chat with Stiles if he was around, work out a little, eat a fruit or whatever snacks had made their way in to the room, work out again, eat, read, sleep. That was the consistency of his days. His stomach clenched painfully as he glared wistfully at the bowl of fruit on the desk. Just thinking about eating one more made him feel like throwing up.

He stood up and pushed his arms up over his head. The movement released the air in his joints. Some of the tension faded from his shoulders and he left out a quick exhale. He allowed his eyes to wander over the room he had stayed in for the past 17 days. Nothing had changed since he had last looked—twenty minutes ago. A tortured groan escaped from between his lips. Honestly, he wouldn’t put it past himself to go insane from this.

He looked around again, chastising himself for falling to the motion again. His eyes fell on the pool in the corner of the room. He had once entertained the thought of exploring the pool and where it led. But then he realized he had no idea how long he would be in the water or if there was anywhere to resurface. So he quickly pushed that thought out of the way. Death by suffocation was not big on his list of ways to die. 

There had to be another way out of the room. Derek would wake up and Stiles would be there, but not even a droplet of water would cling to his eyelashes. How was the boy returning dry? Derek stood and popped his back. He walked over to the pool of water and stared at it. The waters were a clear blue and he could see fish swimming.

Derek shook his head and focused on finding the secondary entrance to the room. He closed his eyes and tried to hear if there were voices of other people. After five minutes of not hearing anything, he signed and opened his eyes. He had thought that being underwater would amplify sounds. But now that he was thinking about it, Stiles had mentioned to him once that his room was far from the main chambers.

“The After-Thought Room,” he had joked once, his eyes unfocused and downcast.

The werewolf scented the air but could only smell the salt in the water. Being down there for so long had actually probably dulled his sense of smell. He was not looking forward to returning to the surface and having to retrain his nose. He checked along all the walls for seams or catches to open secret compartments. But even then there was nothing of the sort. Derek frowned and squinted at the ceiling. Was Stiles somehow climbing out from the top? Derek’s frown deepened and he leaned against the bookcase. He blinked as he felt the slightest of drafts against his arm. He stepped back and looked at the wooden piece of furniture. Of course there was a hidden passage behind the bookcase. He might as well slap himself in the face. Placing his palms against the side of the bookcase, he braced his feet against the floor and gave a huge shove. The case was heavy and difficult even for Derek’s supernatural strength. He didn’t want to think of just how strong Stiles would have to be in order to move the object silently while Derek was sleeping. Pushing that thought from his head, he looked at the single metal ladder that had been hidden behind the bookcase. There was really only one way to find out where the ladder went. He shrugged his shoulders and pulled himself on to the first run of the ladder.

The hatch at the top of the ladder opened silently. It was heavy and made from cold, solid metal. The sudden light after a long, dark climb hit Derek’s eyes and made him wince. When he regained his vision and blinked his eyes open, he realized he was in some sort of alleyway. He pulled himself out with a small groan and quietly closed the cover behind him. Now he could hear the sounds of people and vendors all speaking and shouting in a language he didn’t understand. When he walked out of the alley he was suddenly in the middle of a crowded marketplace. Colorful stalls lined both sides of the path with loud venders shouting over all the noise. Merfolk wandered about in differing styles of dress—tight, dark colored cloth on men; loose, flowing gowns and skirts in various bright colours on women. Derek noticed that these people had a slight purpleish-pink hue to their skin. It was different from Stiles’ blueish-grey pale skin and even Lydia’s human tinted skin.

As he was inspecting the people around him, a large merman in a dark blue tunic bumped in to him. The man turned on Derek, his earfins flared in rage. He began to yell at Derek in a heated tone. But Derek couldn’t understand any of it. The man was gesturing to Derek wildly and the anger in his eyes made them seem to burn. Derek felt his agitation beginning to build. There was no way he could communicate with this man. Even if Derek did know the language, the man was so livid with anger that Derek wouldn’t be able to get a word in. The man’s shouting was beginning to draw a crowd. Derek saw a few figures approaching and looked up to see two large mermen dressed like guards moving swiftly to break up the crowd. 

“Oh there you are!” Came a voice in English. Derek was startled when someone looped their arm around his.

“I thought I told you not to move so far from me,” Lydia said in a joking tone. Out of the corner of his eye, Derek saw the two guards hesitate and pause. Lydia turned to the man who had stopped shouting, but his earfins were still flared. She began to speak with him in a controlled, yet condescending voice. The man flushed an ugly color and his earfins relaxed. He lowered his head and ducked in to the crowd. The group that had gathered was dispersing in disinterest once again. Lydia turned to look at Derek once more and smiled sweetly at him.

“Well,” she said, “Let’s get going, shall we?” She pulled him along by her grip on his arm. He grudgingly followed after her. They walked for a second before Lydia stopped at a stall. She began to pull at fabrics and inspect them.

“Looks like the pup finally broke free from his chain,” she murmured. Derek looked up from a strange piece of jewelry that he was inspecting.

“What?” he asked.

She tugged on a bolt of fabric. She nodded once and said a few words to the vendor. The merchant smiled a wide smile with too many sharp teeth. She prepared the bolts and wrapped them in paper to keep them from getting dirty. Lydia passed a few coins to the woman who nodded once more and bowed her head before disappearing to deposit her profit. The strawberry blonde turned to look at Derek before forcing the bolts of fabric in to his arms.

“If you don’t behave, you’re liable to get arrested by the market guards. So be good and act like you’re with me,” her tone was conversational, but there was an underlying threat to her words. Derek began to open his mouth to protest when he noticed two guards walking past them. The armored mermen gave Derek a very long and particularly suspicious look before moving on. Derek huffed in agitation and moved the fabric in to a position that was easier to carry.

They moved to many different stalls and Lydia picked out various objects. Derek couldn’t really complain—it was better for Derek to stick with Lydia in such a foreign place. Lydia even ended up buying a few shirts and pairs of pants for Derek. She said it was just criminal the things that Stiles had been providing for Derek up to that point. The werewolf in question soon found his arms loaded with bags and bundles of things that Lydia had bought. Now he understood why human boys always hated going to the mall with their girlfriends. It really was a recipe for disaster. Lydia herded Derek to the side and they sat down at an open-air restaurant. Derek put all the goods in a chair and took his own seat. When he was finally at rest, he took the time to crack his neck and roll his shoulders.

“I’m almost positive that you don’t need two-thirds of any of that,” he grumbled.

Lydia flicked her hair over her shoulder and opened a small compact made from shells. She dabbed at her lips with a finger and examined herself in the mirror.

“Yeah, well, I need to look fabulous—and I need those things to do that. So,” she snapped the compact shut with a decisive click and flashed another tight smile at Derek, “I do need it.”

Derek shook his head and sat back in his chair. He was exhausted, but not unhappy. For once, he was doing something other than just sitting in the room doing pushups or reading. It was good to be out of the room. A waiter came over to the table and Lydia spoke with him while gesturing to the menu before her.

“I ordered for you, I hope that’s okay?” She asked with feigned concern.

He simply waved his hand dismissively at her. Lydia put her elbows on the table and leaned forward to place her head in her hands.

“Tell me,” she began, “Why are you out wondering unsupervised?”

Derek didn’t respond. His mouth thinned to a tight line.

Her eyebrows rose daintily, “Stiles doesn’t know you’re out of the room, does he?”

He looked steadily at her.

“Derek,” her voice was low, “You can’t just run around by yourself. You can get in some serious trouble—Stiles can get severely punished if you somehow make a mess out here.”

“I wouldn’t—“

“—you don’t know anything about this place. You don’t know our customs, our laws—you don’t even know the language. How do you expect to survive when you can’t even say hello?”

Lydia’s heated words made Derek pause. She was absolutely right. There was no way that Derek could take care of himself in Ka’Lyrin as he was. The waiter came with their things. He set down the drinks and then placed the food on the table. Lydia smiled at him and said thank you. He bowed and walked away once again.

Derek blinked down at his food, “What is this?”

“Kruch pali,” Lydia said as she picked up her utensils, “A little fishy told me that you have a certain taste for torugo fruits. Kruch pali is meat that is sautéed with bits of torugo.”

With that, she delicately cut her own food and put a piece in to her mouth. Derek watched her for a moment and then grabbed his fork. Well, it was sort of a fork. In all honesty, it looked like a small trident. The prong furthest to the right had a serrated edge that could be used for cutting. In Derek’s hand, the utensil looked small and comical. He cut a small piece of the kruch pali off and hesitantly ate it. His taste buds were immediately soothed with the same sweet taste of the strange fruits that were always stocked in Stiles’ room. The meat itself was just like a steak—although Derek had a strange feeling the animal it had come from was far from four legged. 

Lydia and Derek finished their meal and just sat there digesting. Lydia had called the waiter back over and was now sipping on a steaming drink. She had also gotten a magazine from the man and was reading it too. Derek stared at the front page of the magazine at the foreign shapes of the letters.

“I could learn it,” he mumbled. 

Lydia raised a brow at him and looked at him from over the top of the magazine, “What was that?”

Derek shrugged and looked to the side, “I could learn your language, your rules.”

She was silent for a moment. But then her lips stretched in to a relaxed smile, “Stiles would be happy to hear you say that,” her gaze flicked up for a second, “In fact, why don’t we tell him right now?”

“What?” Derek turned to look behind him at where Lydia was gazing. He didn’t have to look for long. Walking along the marketplace was Stiles. For a moment, Derek didn’t even recognize the merman. Stiles was wearing very formal dress—very different from what Derek was used to Stiles wearing. Stiles had on a straight, fitted dark navy tunic. It buttoned up along the middle with medium sized silver buttons. The belt at the waist of the piece was about an inch and a half and a light grey, nearly white color. His pants were the same dark fabric as his tunic and had a white stripe than ran down the outer seam. It made Stiles look very tall and very mature. Derek blinked as Stiles stopped to talk with one of the market guards. They talked for a moment and then the guard glanced over at Lydia and Derek.

“Shit,” Derek hissed and turned back around.

Lydia smiled mischievously, “Stiles is headed this way. Do you think he’s seen us?”

Derek just glared at her and crossed his arms. He wasn’t at fault here—there was no reason for him to think that he would be in trouble. Stiles had no right to scold him for leaving the room. It was his own fault for having a second way out of the room. It was only a matter of time before Derek found the ladder.

“Hey there Lydia,” Stiles greeted them as he reached the table, “Derek.” Lydia stood and gave Stiles faux kisses on each of his cheeks.

“Hello darling,” she cooed, “How are your morning rounds going?”

“Fine, the Su’Larthin merchants are starting to get a little antsy though.”

Lydia shrugged and she sat back down, “I don’t blame them. Their kingdom is on the brink of war with the Ze’Quan.”

Stiles nodded absently and glanced at Derek, “So Lydia came and got you to help her with her shopping?”

Derek turned his gaze down. He mentally berated himself for showing such a submissive action. 

“No,” he answered gruffly. 

“You found the ladder then?” Stiles let out a small breath, as if disappointed.

“You can’t have expected me to have stayed down there the entire time,” Derek growled, snapping a furious look at Stiles. The merman seemed dumbstruck.

“You didn’t like it? I mean I brought you the torugo that you liked. I made sure that there were new books on the shelf every day.”

Derek sighed in agitation, “I was going crazy—becoming bored out of my mind. There is no way you honestly believed that I was happy being trapped in that room.”

Stiles stared at Derek for a moment. Then he turned his gaze away and his lips turned down slightly.

“You never said anything,” he mumbled. Silence fell over the table. The drone of the marketplace was as brazen as an alarm bell compared to their muteness. 

“Stiles,” Lydia began slowly, “Derek was very helpful today. I think he would be even more use if he was taught the language and customs. We even briefly discussed it and Derek says he wouldn’t mind learning.”

Stiles looked up at this. He looked at Lydia and then glanced to Derek, “Really?”

Derek gave a one-shouldered noncommittal shrug and a slight nod.

“But since he hasn’t been formally introduced to the Council, no one knows who he is. This could be very constricting while we’re teaching him. Why not make him a temporary agent of yours?”

“Oh!” Stiles clapped his hands together, “That’s not a bad idea!” He reached in to his tunic and pulled out a necklace. He pulled it off over his head and held it out to Derek. 

“If you wear this,” Stiles explained, “You’ll be considered mine. That means all the services that would be presented to me would be available to you as well. You could move freely and if you wanted to buy food or goods or books or whatever, you just flash this little baby around and it’s taken care of.”

Derek took the necklace. He looked down at the simple, pressed piece of metal on the cord. The metal was no bigger than a quarter and as thin as a piece of pressed copper. Stamped in to the metal was a symbol that looked a lot like a snowflake, but with a few more lines. It was still warm in Derek’s hand from Stiles’ own body heat.

“It’s the royal crest of Hiems’ Obtutus,” Stiles said, reaching over to run his finger over the lines of the piece. Stiles looked back up at Derek when a small smile, “This is my symbol here. If you wear this, it shows that you’re with me. You shouldn’t have any more trouble.”

“Right,” Derek mumbled and gripped the pendant in his palm, folding his fingers over the piece. Lydia and Stiles droned on for a few more minutes about who would teach Derek and where he would be taught. But Derek wasn’t really listening—his mind was focused on the warm metal in his hand.


	3. Chapter 3

Stiles plodded along the now empty marketplace. The luminescing plants had been changed to a soft, orange glow and cast shadows across the closed market stalls. His eyelids were drooping and he felt yawns brimming just under the surface. He scrubbed at his face as he turned down the alleyway that the hatch to his room was. He struggled to pull open the metal circle and let it fall against the ground with a loud metallic clang. Stiles swung his feet in and nestled the toes of his shoes on the rungs of the ladder. Slowly lowering himself in to the tunnel, he reached up and closed the hatch. The sound echoed through the marketplace and dampened against the stalls.

Reaching the bottom of the ladder was a miracle. Stiles honestly thought his arms were going to fall off. He was already preparing an excuse for why he couldn’t go to work the next day—no one would ever believe that his arms had fallen off. We’ve heard that one a thousand times, Stiles, they would say. Stiles snorted just thinking about it. But he quickly focused his energies on descending the ladder and found his feet soon on solid ground once more. He swayed only slightly and leaned against the back of the bookcase to steady himself again. When he was able, he slipped his fingers around the edge of the bookcase and shoved it sideways so he could get in to his room. The bookcase moved with a loud scrape against the floor. Stiles could honestly not bring himself to care. He was so exhausted he could barely see straight. He didn’t even bother to put the bookcase back to its original position.

Stiles toed off his shoes as he walked over to his bed. The darkness pushed in on him from all sides. His limbs were heavy and his movements sluggish. He pulled his shirt over his head and cursed when it got stuck on his mess of gangly limbs. The fight with the piece of apparel was hard-fought and ended with Stiles just ripping the accursed thing in half. He tossed the pieces of the shirt to the floor and flopped face first in to his mattress. A long, drawn-out groan left his lips as his body deflated and let all of his built up stresses exit his being. His hand was on something warm and he moved to cuddle closer in to the warmth. He put his head on the bulk of it and wrapped his arm around it to hold himself close to it. He hummed happily and snuggled his face against it as it warmed his skin and caused a pleasant heat to settle in his bones.

Derek stared at the ceiling as Stiles put his head on the man’s chest. Derek had never thought of it, but maybe Stiles shared a bed with Derek every night. It was the merman’s bed after all, why shouldn’t he sleep in it? Had he and Stiles been sharing the same bed all this time? He didn’t think so--the bed never smelt any stronger of Stiles than the first night Derek had arrived. Although that first night Derek hadn’t slept, rather he just skulked angrily in the corner and glared at the pool of water Stiles had vanished in to. But now, here was the boy next to him. Derek scented the air and he was slowly overwhelmed with the sickly scent of exhaustion. It filled his nostrils and made his own body ache. Just what was Stiles doing all day while he was out that could make him so completely wiped? 

Stiles let out a little noise and rubbed his cheek against Derek’s chest. It ruffled the fabric of the larger man’s shirt. He could already feel a small pool of drool beginning to collect there. Derek sighed and hesitantly moved his arm underneath Stiles’ neck. The added support seemed to please the sleeping merman because his lips stretched into a smile and he murmured incoherently. The scent in the air shifted slightly. There was still that undertone of exhaustion, but now the sweet, cinnamon scent of contentedness came from the boy. Derek would never admit that he may have smiled. It was dark anyway, no one could see him.

 

Morning came slowly to Stiles. He opened his eyes and groaned. He so did not want to be awake yet. He hadn’t slept in his bed for at least a month, not to mention he was so warm. He snuggled against the pillow he had cuddled up against. He didn’t even remember buying a body pillow but he sure as hell wasn’t upset with it now. Maybe Lydia had gotten it for him while he wasn’t looking. She had a penchant for buying things she didn’t need. 

There was a little nagging in the back of his mind. There had been a reason he had been sleeping on a couch in his office. Sleep muddled Stiles’ brain as he tried to sift through information. Yesterday he had finally finished up a large proposal for the Council. It had been for an investigation in to the imports coming from the Qua’Xing Kingdom. The damn thing had taken Stiles an entire week to finish and had been a complete pain in the ass to do. It was basically busy work that the Council was forcing on to him because he had no choice. He had to prove himself as capable first before the Council would even think about seeing him. He was doing his best to get an audience with the Council as quick as possible so he could get Derek back—

Shit. Derek.

Stiles forced his eyes to focus as he quickly came in to full consciousness. His eyes fell on the pillow he had been cuddling so close to. It was none other than the resident werewolf. The merman felt his blood run cold. Sometime in the night, he had saddled up to Derek. How had that even happened? At the moment, Stiles didn’t want to know. He just needed to get out of the situation before Derek woke up and totally handed his ass to him. Stiles tried to steady his heart, afraid that the jackhammer pace of the organ would wake the sensitive were. Very slowly, Stiles tried to just roll backwards away from Derek. But he ran in to a problem when he realized that Derek had actually put his arm around and behind him. The appendage had been Stiles’ cradle that held him close to Derek. 

What even was this situation? Stiles should have just stayed in his office and slept on the couch again. He groaned internally and cursed himself. 

“Are you awake now?”

Stiles jumped slightly and looked back at Derek. His eyes were open and clear. The brilliant, changing hazel of them caught Stiles off guard. For a moment Stiles just stared in to Derek’s eyes. The younger male couldn’t even begin to understand the darkness that sometimes made its way in to Derek’s gaze. Stiles wanted to reach out and touch Derek—he felt the need in his fingers. The tingle ran all the way up his arm. For some reason unknown to him, he felt as if he needed to take care of Derek. Like there was some way to help him overcome the ghosts of his pasts. But Stiles had no way of knowing how to do that. He didn’t even know just what ghosts Derek would have to overcome. 

Stiles swallowed thickly, “Sorry. Have you been awake long?”

Derek shrugged, the motion causing Stiles’ own body to rock slightly. Stiles bent at the waist to sit up and looked down at Derek. Derek pulled his arm from where it had been and placed it behind his head. 

“I didn’t mean to, uh, sleep here,” Stiles stammered dumbly. 

Derek raised a seriously impressive eyebrow at this, “Where else would you sleep?”

“Well,” Stiles pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, worrying it slightly, “In my office.”

“Do you have a bed in your office?” Derek asked simply.

“No, um, there’s a couch.”

Stiles didn’t know someone could have such judgmental eyebrows. Seriously, what was this guy’s eyebrow game? 

“You sleep on a couch in your office,” Derek repeated as if reaffirming the facts to himself.

“I mean,” Stiles began, “Usually I work through the night anyway. So I’d just take a quick nap on the couch there so I could get back to work right away. But I’d just finished a big proposal so it should take at least a few hours for the Council to find something for me to do.”

“A proposal? For what?”

“Oh, you wouldn’t want to be bothered with the details—“

“Lydia says I need to start learning about the politics of this place. You might as well tell me.”

Stiles stared at Derek, who returned the look unwaveringly. Stiles sighed and ran a hand through his hair, “Fine. It was a proposal to do quality checks on incoming goods from Qua’Xing.”

“Because of their alliance with the Su’Larthin Kingdom, it’s possible the Qua’Xing are giving Ka’Lyrin lower quality goods. They want to be giving the better quality goods to their ally in the possibility of war.”

“Yeah, how did you—“ Stiles shook his head, “That’s right. But we’ve paid the price for high quality goods and we expect to get what we’ve paid for.”

Derek nodded, “How long does it usually take to write up such a proposal?”

“I don’t know. Normally around six weeks to get everything in order.”

“Did you anticipate this happening? The hostilities between the Su’Larthin and Ze’Quan have only been going on for about three weeks now.”

“No, that is to say,” Stiles scratched at his cheek and looked away from Derek, “I finished the proposal in 17 days.”

Derek sat up quickly, putting their gazes on the same level, “That isn’t possible.”

Stiles shrugged, “It wasn’t easy—let me tell you that.”

“Stiles, you’ll work yourself in to the ground working like that.”

“No it’s fine. I had to do this. I have to do everything the Council wants for them to accept me—“

“Stiles—“ 

“—If I do everything then I can get an audience with them—“

“Stiles, listen—“

“—then I can get permission to send you back!” Stiles ended. He hadn’t realized they had started to talk over each other. Stiles was panting and shaking slightly. He just wanted to make Derek happy. 

“I have to get you back where you belong,” Stiles said softly. He lowered his head and looked down at his hands clasped in his lap, “It’s been almost three months since I brought you here. I bet your family is worried sick.”

“Stiles,” Stiles was taken aback by the gentle tone of Derek’s voice. He was forced to look up at it. Derek’s eyes had gone dark, but Stiles couldn’t look away.

“Stiles,” Derek repeated, “There—isn’t anyone for me to go back to,”

Stiles paused, “No one?”

“No,” Derek shook his head and this time he looked away, “Werewolf hunters killed my family—burned them all in our own home. My uncle escaped the blaze and tried to go back in to save anyone he could. But he was trapped by a support beam and he was severely burned. My older sister and I were at school. When we returned home, there were only flames and screams to greet us.”

“Derek—“ 

Derek shook his head again and then looked back up at Stiles, “Here—in this place—is the first time in years that I have felt like I actually belonged somewhere. Like I have a purpose. I couldn’t save my family from the fire—I caused it by being tricked by a hunter,” his jaw clenched, “I couldn’t protect my sister and I had to kill my own uncle after he went rogue. Stiles I—I don’t have anyone on the surface waiting for me.”

He let out a shuddering breath. Maybe this was the first time that Derek had admitted it to himself. Stiles understood, it was hard to be all alone in the world. Stiles could only swallow and watch Derek. The were closed his eyes and took in a slow, deep breath. When he opened his eyes again, the darkness had gone.

“So don’t work yourself ragged for my sake. It’s not imperative that I go back right away.”

Stiles looked over every inch of Derek’s face, taking in its contours. He saw the shadows under his eyes and wondered if Stiles had them too. He must look awful and ragged. Laughter bubbled inside of him and he couldn’t keep it from escaping. It was a tired and possibly hysteric sound and Stiles couldn’t care less. He and Derek were both alone and they had somehow ended up together. It was funny how the world worked sometimes. It really was.

 

Derek paused with what he was writing. Lydia bent over and picked the paper up. Her critical eyes flickered across the page.

“Not bad Hale,” she commented, “Your handwriting is really improving. I can almost read it,”

He scowled at her and snatched the page out of her hand, “Gee, thanks. You’re such a great teacher,” he then continued to write out his exercises. It was like he was back in grade school, but really that’s what level he was at. Lydia leaned against the table and watched Derek as he worked.

“You know,” she began, twirling a curl on her finger, “You’re doing really well.”

Derek looked up only to shoot her a skeptical look. She held up her hands in mock surrender. 

“I’m being serious. I don’t take compliments lightly, I will have you know. You’re picking up the language very quickly and Stiles tells me that he can come to you with the politics. It’s quite extraordinary.”

“Oh,” Derek shrugged, “Glad I’m just not wasting anyone’s time here,”

Lydia flashed him a brilliant smile, “Of course not! I wouldn’t take time out of my busy schedule to teach someone who couldn’t learn. You are the ideal student. Who’s a good dog? You are—that’s right. You’re a good dog!” She teased him.

Derek let out a frustrated breath but couldn’t keep from grinning. Lydia smiled back before rising.

“Now, take a break. We’re going shopping,” She declared. 

“You mean you’re shopping and I’m just carrying everything,” Derek grumbled, putting his pen down. 

“See?” She pointed at him with a pink fingernail and gave him a dazzling smile once more, “Quick learner.” Derek rolled his eyes and stood to follow Lydia to the marketplace.

The weather had turned warmer in the kingdom. How the mechanics of that worked, Derek would probably never know. Perhaps as the waters warmed with the changing seasons, so did the temperatures of the water. But however it happened, it didn’t change the fact that now it was hot and Derek was sweating as he and Lydia perused the stalls in the marketplace. He growled as he fluttered the front of his shirt in an attempt at creating some form of breeze. He was starting to get irritable and it was showing. Lydia frowned at him as he snarled at someone who had bumped him in passing.

“What is your problem?” She hissed at him, pulling him aside. Derek shrugged her off and bared his teeth at her in warning. Lydia scoffed and rolled her eyes.

“Down boy. What? Are you rabid? Is it that time of month?” 

Derek kept a growl down and he shook his head. He began to open his mouth but then abruptly stopped. He thought about it and it actually was the night of a full moon.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, “It’s hot. I don’t like the heat,”

She raised an eyebrow at him, “Yet you live in California?”

“Northern California,” he replied. She let out an exasperated sigh and then continued on with her shopping. 

Derek frowned and looked down at his palm. He curled his fingers in to a fist and uncurled them. It had been a long time since his mood was affected by the moon. He had long since been able to control his Shift. But maybe something inside of him was changing. His anchor was disappearing. A were without an anchor was dangerous. But Derek refused to let himself succumb to the animal inside of him. He could control his wolf, with or without an anchor.

The room was quiet—annoyingly so. Derek stared up at the ceiling as he lay on the bed. With an irritated breath he sat up. He needed to move. Dropping down, he began to do pushups. But after about 300 of those, he began to feel his wolf stirring underneath. More action—more movement. He stood up, shaking himself out. He bent his knees and jumped to grab one of the rafters in the ceiling. The burn in his arms from supporting his weight made him growl low in his throat.

While pulling himself up, he felt the burn in his gums. He was losing it. His control was slipping. Derek was coming undone. He dropped from the rafter and landed in a crouch. A growl rumbled deep in his chest. The sound grew until it was bursting from between his lips in a roar. The sound shook the room and filled the space. Derek was seeing red, everything blurred and formless. To him, everything was foreign and a threat. With another roar he began to tear everything apart.

There was a soft thud as Stiles dropped down the last few rungs of the ladder. He had gotten permission to apply for an audience with the Council. If they were lucky, Stiles would be able to speak to the Council and get permission to take Derek back to the surface within the next couple months. It was great news and Stiles planned to celebrate it with a big dinner. He was going to take Derek, they would both get dressed up, and then Stiles was going to show Derek just how to party in Ka’Lyrin. A smile stretched Stiles’ lips wide. Tonight was going to be an amazing night, he just knew it.

Stiles pushed against the bookshelf. It didn’t budge in the slightest. A frown wiped Stiles’ smile right from his face. That was odd. Had Derek accidentally put something in front of the bookcase? No matter, Stiles could move it anyway. He steadied his feet on the floor and placed his hands against the wood. With a deep breath in, Stiles pushed against the bookshelf once more. He felt the muscles in his arm and back tighten with the effort. The fins on his forearms flared and he grunted, attempting to throw his body weight in to it. This is just what he needed because the shelf fell away with a wooden groan. It actually slowly slid over, collapsing on top of itself. 

“Oops,” Stiles flinched as he looked at the wreckage, “I—meant to do that. I’ve been wanting a new bookcase.” He turned his gaze up just as the desk chair came flying at him. He cursed and ducked quickly, narrowly avoiding the projectile. 

“What in the—“ He was cut off by a low growl. Stiles’ heart thudded hard in his chest as he slowly turned towards the source of the sound. His eyes widened as he took in the scene. The bed was on its side, thrown against the wall. Books had been ripped apart, scraps of paper all over the floor. Stiles swallowed hard.

“D-Derek?” He whispered. The were growled and snapped his teeth at Stiles. 

“Oh shit,” Stiles hissed. He swallowed again, hoping that it would somehow quell his fears, “Derek, it’s me. It’s Stiles,”

Derek’s mouth opened to reveal long, dripping canines. Canines that could easily bite through merman flesh. Stiles was so screwed. Derek roared and lunged towards Stiles. The boy jumped out of the way, but he was no match for the heightened speed of the wolf. Soon Derek had Stiles pinned on his back on the floor.

Derek took in the sharp, coppery scent of fear. He slowly and deeply inhaled it and tasted it on his tongue. It filled his being and gave him a thrill. A pleased rumble came deep in his chest as he drug his nose along the vein in his prey’s neck. The blood pumped just below the surface and the sound of the rapidly beating heart made a shiver go through the wolf. He opened his mouth and felt a tingling sensation in his gums. The need to tear flesh and feel hot blood across his muzzle overwhelmed him and made him dizzy. He allowed his tongue to dart out and glide along the flesh. It tasted of sea water and slightly of mint. The throat beneath him bobbed as his prey swallowed. Then, two arms wrapped around him. A noise of surprise left him at this.

“D-Derek,” came the shaky sound of the person beneath him, “Stop. It’s—it’s Stiles,”

The were whuffed and the scent of seawater and mint entered his nose. His vision blurred and then cleared and he no longer saw only shades of red. 

“Stiles?” He asked slowly, his voice gruff and scratchy. 

“Hey, yeah, hey there buddy. It’s me, Stiles.”

“Stiles, what—“ All of Derek’s strength left him. His body felt like lead. It had completely drained him to have his wolf run unchecked like that. But what had brought him back? Stiles grunted as he lifted Derek up. It was difficult—the man was about 200lbs of pure muscle. At first, Stiles supported Derek in a half sitting position.

“C’mon big buy,” Stiles mumbled. He was still pretty shaken up. His limbs trembled slightly and he didn’t think it was from the effort of moving Derek. Stiles got up and moved around the mess. He pulled the bed over from its side. The mattress was slashed and the sheets had been ripped. But it would do for now. Stiles went back to Derek and half carried, half drug him over to the bed. He ended up dumping the larger man unceremoniously on to what was left of the bed. Stiles collapsed next to him and let out a tired breath.

“Sorry,” Derek whispered, “I didn’t mean—I don’t,”

Stiles shook his head, “We can talk about it later. I’m still a little too freaked out and you’re way too tired. Just sleep for now, okay?” Stiles was pretty sure he kept his voice from wavering. Derek stared at Stiles for a moment and then nodded his head weakly. His eyes closed slowly after that and his breathing evened out. 

Honey brown eyes looked over Derek and felt his heart slow back to normal speed. He wasn’t exactly sure what had just happened. It was a full moon, but Derek had said that he could control his shift. Why had Derek lost it this time? But more importantly, what had brought him back? Stiles frowned as he thought about it. Had it been him? No, that would be ridiculous—it could never happen. At least, that’s what Stiles thought. 

Small whimpers started to come from Derek. Stiles looked up and saw that Derek’s eyebrows were furrowed. He must be having a nightmare. Shifting like that without any control of it must be exhausting, mentally and physically. Stiles crowded closer to Derek. He placed his arm over Derek’s stomach and spooned him. The whimpers died off and Derek’s breathing eased once more. As Stiles lie on his destroyed mattress among the wreckage of his room, he wondered if life would ever return to normal after Derek was back on the surface. What would his life be like without Derek? The sinking feeling in his stomach gave him his answer and Stiles knew that he was in trouble.


	4. Chapter 4

With a tired groan, Derek put down his pen. He rubbed at his eyes and leaned back in his chair. It was a new chair, thanks to his little outburst last week. He and Stiles had talked about it and Stiles admitted he had been scared out of his mind. 

“So,” Stiles had begun, “That was you shifted?”

“Yeah, it was nearly a complete beta shift,” Derek replied.

“Beta shift? There are different shifts?”

Derek nodded, “Some alphas have been said to be able to shift completely in to a wolf. My mother was one of those alphas.”

“Wow, she sounds amazing,”

“She was,” Derek agreed softly after a moment.

“You told me you could control your shift. You shifted for me that day we played 20 questions,” Stiles observed, “Did you let yourself go on purpose or?” 

“No,” Derek shook his head and looked down, “I don’t know what happened, honestly. Generally I can control the shift on a full moon, but maybe my anchor is slipping.”

“Your anchor?”

“It’s something that keeps all wolves grounded so we can control our shift. Mine used to be anger.”

“Anger,” Stiles mused, “Why do you think it’s changed?”

“I honestly couldn’t tell you. Since you brought me down here, my entire life has changed. It’s not even so much that it’s different. I probably wouldn’t be doing much more on the surface than I do here. But here, I have you and Lydia. I’m learning about Ka’Lyrin and all the politics of this place. I actually feel like I have a purpose—a meaning for this existence. It’s,” he paused, “It’s a strange feeling.”

Stiles was quiet for a second, “So you’re just not angry anymore?”

“I have no need to be. Yes, I’m still not over the murder of my family. But I think I’m slowly getting there. I will get to that point eventually.”

“Then, if you’re not angry and you don’t have an anchor, you’re going to freak out again like you did last night?”

“Stiles,” Derek had said, “If that ever happens again—“

“What? You want me to kill you?” Stiles interrupted sarcastically. He turned a grin on Derek, thinking he had been joking, but stopped. Derek was looking steadily at Stiles. 

“I—“ Stiles stammered, “I couldn’t do that.”

“Don’t you understand that when I’m like that I don’t care who you are? At that point I could—“

“Derek!” Stiles waited for Derek to be looking him in the eye, “I don’t care how far gone you are,” he said evenly, “I will always bring you back.”

Derek had been speechless. What could he say to that? Normally he would just brush Stiles off and disregard him. But the fire that blazed in those honey gold orbs took away any remark that Derek could have said. So he had just barely nodded in response.

The sound of bubbles brought Derek back to the present. He turned the chair to look at the pool just as Stiles broke the surface.

“You’re here!” He exclaimed. A smile lit up his face as he paddled to the edge of the pool and pulled himself out. Stiles didn’t even bother to shake off the excess liquid that had seeped in to his clothes. That was another testimony to his current state of hyperactivity. He hurried over to Derek, nearly tripping over his own two feet. Stiles stumbled and caught himself on the edge of the desk. Derek raised an eyebrow at him and let out a bemused snort.

“Don’t you play your eyebrow game with me, mister,” Stiles said as he stood straight once more, “Anyway! Not important! Do you want to see something cool?”

“Something cool?” Derek inquired.

The mer nodded quickly, his brain practically rattling out of his skull, “Yeah. It’s super cool! I mean unless you were doing something.”

Derek turned to look at the book he had been translating. It was a text that Lydia had given him. She felt that one of the quickest ways to get him used to the language was for him to translate it in to English. So far Derek was getting along pretty well. He only had to consult the dictionary that Lydia had managed to track down a couple times. He was fairly sure his grammar was still crap, but it was definitely progress.

“It’s nothing that I can’t come back to,” Derek answered with a shrug.

“Awesome! Yes, okay,” Stiles smiled wide but after a half-second his smile faltered slightly. His face then fell only slightly as he looked apprehensively at Derek.

“What? Were you expecting me to say no and then you could come back and rub this amazing thing in my face?”

“No!” Stiles held his hands up in front of him and shook his head quickly, “No not at all. I want you to come with me. It’s just that,” his voice drifted off.

“It’s just what, Stiles?”

“Well,” his honey eyes caught Derek’s hazel-green ones, “Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” Derek replied without any hesitation. They both seemed surprised at this. Stiles’ eyebrows rose slightly but then he smiled once more. He ran a hand back through his still damp hair.

“Then let’s get going! Time’s a wasting!” Stiles said before going back to the pool. He jumped in and disappeared for a moment as the water sloshed from his sudden entrance. Then his head broke the surface and looked towards Derek.

“Are you coming?” Stiles asked softly, trepidation creeping once more in to his voice. Derek stood from the chair and walked over to the pool. He stopped at the edge and squatted down.

“You want me to go in there? I have no idea where that goes or for how long,”

Stiles sank a little in the water, to where the waterline was at his nose. He tipped his head back slightly so he could speak, “You said you trust me,” he then dipped back down to blow small bubbles in the water. Derek sighed and rubbed at his scruffy chin thoughtfully.

“I did say that,” he mumbled. For some reason, he believed it. He believed that Stiles wouldn’t let him get hurt—or in the worst case die. Stiles flicked his gaze up when he felt the water be disturbed and was pleased to see Derek slipping in to the pool. He slowly lowered himself in to the water and shivered while he body adjusted to the temperature.

Stiles moved the short distance to bob next to the larger man, “Ready?” He breathed. Derek inhaled slowly and let it out at the same pace.

“Ready,” he replied. Stiles gave him a small smile before reaching forward in the water. His fingers brushed against Derek’s before Stiles held on to Derek’s hand. Derek looked up at Stiles before nodding once. Then the two were dipping down to completely submerge themselves in the water.

For just a moment, Derek panicked. He was suddenly underwater in a part of the ocean he had no idea about. It was dark and he couldn’t see. Because when he opened his eyes the salt water assaulted the sensitive organs. Why he never remembered that the ocean contained a significant portion of salt, he would probably never understand. So there he was—in the ocean unable to see or breathe and completely disoriented. His heart rate skyrocketed and he tried to stamp down his panic.

Then Derek felt a touch on his hand. He flinched and moved his body away from it. God, of course, on top of everything now he was probably going to be eaten by some monstrous fish. He knew exactly what kinds of ocean life made its home around Ka’Lyrin. 

“Derek!” The voice was muffled and muddled thanks to the water, but it was definitely a voice, “Derek, calm down. It’s safe—you’re safe.”

Stiles? That was Stiles? In his moment of hazy fear Derek had forgotten the reason why he was in the water in the first place. Stiles. The touch on his hand returned and gripped his hand reassuringly. Then there was another touch on his face and Derek could tell it was Stiles. Derek allowed himself to calm down and his fear slowly dissipated. It had left a sour taste in his mouth, but he was able to slow his heart rate nonetheless.

“We’re going to move now, okay?” Stiles asked, his voice strange underwater. Derek only nodded in response. A second later, Stiles’ hand on Derek’s face disappeared. But his grip on his hand tightened again and pulled Derek forward. Derek followed and soon the two were swimming along in the ocean. Derek was still very unhappy that he couldn’t see. Sure, he could open his eyes. It would sting but with his werewolf healing powers his eyes would be able to see. The whole process would just be very uncomfortable and draining. Derek wanted to conserve his energy for whatever and wherever it was that Stiles was taking him. 

The only thing Derek could hear was the swish of water. He felt the water pressing down on him. It would have been claustrophobic any other time. But he just focused his senses on Stiles’ hand in his. It was surprisingly warm and his fingers were smooth. It was a contrast to Derek’s rough skin. But he supposed that made sense. They were about as different as people came—one a werewolf and the other a merman. Neither were completely human or even completely animal. They were hybrids, cross breeds. One could say they were kindred spirits of a sort.

Derek lost track of time. He was counting his heartbeats—17 beats per minute. That had always been the slowest he could get it. It was around 731 beats that Derek’s lungs started to burn. The heat spread through his chest and he knew he wouldn’t be able to go much longer without air. 748 beats and Derek coughed. Bubbles burst forth from his mouth before he quickly closed it.

765 beats. 

He opened his eyes and winced at the sudden sting in his eyes. His vision was blurred for a moment before his eyes started to heal themselves rapidly against the salt. Stiles was swimming just an arm’s length away from him. The boy looked at home in the water—completely at ease. He moved through the water like a bird through the air. It was effortless and beautiful.

782 beats.

Derek coughed again, more bubbles and more air leaving his body. He tightened his grip on Stiles’ hand and pulled. His chest was uncomfortably tight as his body fought to gasp for air. He tugged again on Stiles’ hand. Stiles paused, finally noticing Derek’s pulling. Stiles tilted his head.

“What’s up?” He asked. Derek gestured towards his mouth. His body shuddered and he gasped. Water entered his lungs and he was suddenly panicking again. He sputtered and coughed which made even more water get in to his mouth. He was going to die. He was going to drown and die. Somewhere in the middle of the ocean with no one to look for him and no one to mourn his passing. 

The were flinched when Stiles touched his face. Stiles was floating so that they were eye level. A thin film was over his eyes, but the honey color was no less intense. Derek’s heart was speeding up—36 bpm, 50 bpm, 78 bpm, 92 bpm, 110 bpm. Derek squeezed his eye shut and felt himself shaking. Die—he was going to die. Stiles placed his hands on Derek’s face. Derek reached up and wrapped his hands around Stiles’ wrists. For a second, Derek thought he had died. Everything was black and nothing happened. But then he felt something soft against his lips. He realized with a start that it was Stiles’ lips. Stiles’ tongue moved out and gently pressed against Derek’s lower lip. Now was definitely not the time for this, Derek thought. Stiles blew small bubbles against Derek’s mouth and Derek realized what Stiles was trying to do. Stiles was a merman. He had gills that took the oxygen from the water and in to his lungs. Could he circumvent the oxygen from his lungs out his mouth? There was only one way to find out. Derek parted his lips and felt Stiles open his mouth as well. Then air was being blown in to Derek’s mouth.

At first Derek greedily gulped up the air. The burning in his lungs lessened. He discovered quickly that he could breathe out in to Stiles’ mouth. If he held his breath for a second, Stiles’ lungs could enrich the CO2 with added oxygen from the water. Then Stiles would just breathe the oxygenated air back to Derek. After a minute or two, Derek’s breathing calmed down. He took slow, patient breaths from Stiles’ proffered lips. He got his heart back under control but couldn’t get it to lower than 21 beats per minute this time. He counted to 42 before releasing Stiles’ lips from his. 

Stiles pressed his forehead against Derek’s and Derek opened his eyes. The sting was there, but it was bearable. Stiles removed his hands from the sides of Derek’s face. He pointed at Derek and then at himself. He then grabbed Derek’s shirt hem and tugged before pointing to his own sleeve. After tugging, he blew out a few little bubbles that quickly floated up and away. Stiles held up his hand in the “okay” sign with a tilt of his head. Stiles was saying that when Derek needed air, he just had to pull on Stiles’ sleeve. Derek nodded and returned the hand sign. Stiles smiled but it looked a little embarrassed. He motioned to his gills and then to Derek before shaking his head. In his excitement, he had completely forgotten that Derek didn’t have gills and wasn’t able to breathe underwater. Derek rolled his eyes sarcastically and shrugged in his shoulders. He lightly hit Stiles on the head and bubbles escaped the mer’s lips in silent laughter. But on the inside, Derek felt a bit warmed by this notion. That meant to Stiles, that Derek was as much a part of his life as anyone else he knew.

Derek looked down at his hand as Stiles took his hand once more. He nodded forward, asking permission to move again. Once more Derek nodded and the two were swimming again. Derek watched Stiles move. He tracked the bunching and flexing of muscles in the boy’s back and legs and arms. He had never once attributed the word “beautiful” to a man before, but in this case there was no denying it. Stiles in the water was breathtaking. Derek felt his heart pick up slightly to 23 beats and he frowned. He closed his eyes once more to control his heart back down to 21 and to conserve his energy.

920 beats later, Derek tugged on Stiles’ sleeve. Stiles stopped immediately and they drifted forward a couple inches due to momentum. He turned and faced Derek. Derek opened his eyes and met Stiles’ stare. The corner of Stiles’ mouth quirked up in to a half smile and he floated down in front of Derek. Then Stiles moved his head forward and their lips met softly once more. It was such a gentle action. But it was keeping Derek alive and Stiles didn’t mind it one bit. Stiles let his hand rest on Derek’s wrist during the exchange. His touch was firm and reassuring. 

When Derek had enough air, Stiles pulled back. He checked to make sure Derek was okay. Derek nodded and then frowned. Stiles tilted his head in question. According to Derek’s very rough calculations, they had been swimming for about 90 minutes. Where in the world were they going? Derek held his hands apart to mime a distance then he looked at Stiles questioningly. Stiles’ eyebrows twitched up and his mouth formed a tiny “o.” He held up his own hand to indicate that they just had a little ways farther to go. He sent the “okay” signal to Derek once more and Derek waved him off. But Stiles didn’t move until Derek reluctantly gave him the “okay” back. This time Derek reached out for Stiles and their hands fit together perfectly. Derek closed his eyes and they swam on.

Once more Derek needed air. He probably could have lasted longer without it, but why risk it? When Derek tugged on Stiles’ sleeve the boy allowed himself to be pulled right to Derek. Stiles grabbed on to Derek’s upper arm to steady himself. He looked at Derek for a second before smiling. The two met in the middle and Derek breathed from Stiles. Their lips moved and a few bubbles escaped. They couldn’t have that happening, now could they? Derek put his hand on Stiles’ face, his fingertips brushing against the boy’s hair. It felt soft in the water and Derek pushed his hand a little further in to the strands. Stiles made a small noise that was quickly swallowed by Derek. Eventually, Derek had refilled his lungs with air and moved away from Stiles. They stared at each other for a moment. Then Derek let his hand slip from Stiles’ hair down to Stiles’ hand. Stiles nodded and they swam again, this time ascending towards the surface.

When Derek’s head broke the surface, he inhaled slowly. The air was different here. It smelled—dirty. It wasn’t like the air in Stiles’ room or in the marketplace or even in the library. Derek recognized the smell of land and city life. Even though the islands were so far from the Bay, the amount of pollution had spread its smell that far too. Derek scrunched up his nose and frowned. How strange. He had lived on the surface for twenty years but now it just felt so strange to him.

“Derek!” Stiles called. He was paddling over to a large rock in the shape of an arch. It was a natural object. Derek picked up the scent of birds and wondered if this rock was around one of the islands that had trouble with over poaching of seabird eggs. Derek shifted his body and lazily kicked to where Stiles was climbing up on to the rock. Stiles got up on the rock and shook himself off a little. He then knelt down and offered a hand to Derek. Derek grabbed it, muttering a thanks, and pulled himself out of the water as well. 

Nighttime had fallen and the waning gibbous moon illuminated the water’s surface. Silver and white was cast over everything. Stiles climbed to the top of the rock and sat down on a flat spot. With the ease that Stiles moved over the slippery surface, Derek could tell the mer had come to this spot a few times before. Derek had a bit more trouble with it. He could see in the dark, thanks to his were eyes and the moonlight. But that didn’t mean the rock would cooperate with him. Almost every third or fourth step he took the rocks would either be loose or slick and Derek would have to catch himself. After that whole ordeal of getting there, he refused to be brained and bleed out on a stupid rock.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Stiles asked when Derek finally sat down next to him. Stiles was lounging back on his hands with his feet dangling over the edge. He kicked idly and let his feet swing slowly back and forth in the air. Derek folded his feet under him and slouched over. He let his hands sit in his lap.

“Is this what you wanted to show me? The moon? I hate you break it to you Stiles, but I have seen tons of moons in my time. I did use to live up here, you know.”

“No—that’s not—god you prick,” Stiles grumbled. He pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around his legs. He looked upset, his brow furrowed slightly.

Derek let out a breath, “Look, Stiles, I was kidding.”

“Whatever,” Stiles mumbled without uncurling from his position. Derek watched Stiles’ face for a moment. Stiles’ eyes flicked over the surface of the water as if he was looking for something. Derek sighed again and got comfortable. Apparently there was something else that Stiles wanted him to see. 

The night was fairly decent. Spring was approaching so even though he was soaking wet, Derek wasn’t cold. Yes, he was a bit chilled considering he wasn’t getting any heat energy from the moon. It would have been better if they could bask in the sunlight. But it wasn’t uncomfortable in the least. Derek wondered idly if Stiles ever tanned. Lydia seemed to have a healthy glow to her skin. But then again, that was probably because of the differing of species the two nereids were.

After a half an hour of staring at the rippling ocean’s surface, Derek laid back. He pillowed his head with his arms and closed his eyes. Despite everything, this was relaxing. Just being somewhere and spending time with Stiles was nice. Derek wasn’t sure exactly what that implicated for him, but he wouldn’t stress over it now.

Twenty minutes later, Stiles spoke up softly, “Derek?”

“Hm?” 

“Thanks,” Stiles said, “For coming here with me,”

Derek turned his head and looked at Stiles. Stiles was still looking out at the ocean, but his form didn’t seem as stiff as it had been. 

“I’m still holding you to your word. I expect to see something very cool.”

Stiles laughed a little and rest his head on his arms to look at Derek. He smiled gently down at him, “You won’t be disappointed. I promise.”

Ten minutes passed before Stiles spoke again.

“Hey, uh,” he paused for a second, “Is it okay if I talk?”

Derek opened one eye to look at Stiles. He shrugged and closed his eye again, “It’s a little weird for you to not be talking. You don’t really shut up,”

“Wow, hey that is not true at all! I don’t talk while you’re sleeping!”

“Not true,” Derek held up a finger to point lazily at the boy, “You mumble to yourself when you go over things.”

“Okay, so I talk a lot. Moving on,” Stiles said with a short laugh, “My mom and I were really close before I left. She was more in my life than my father, not because of his lack of trying. He was just always really busy with the kingdom.”

“What was your mom’s name?” Derek asked.

“Claudia. Her name’s Claudia. She was the high priestess of a nearby tribe. When the tribe visited, my father—prince at the time—saw her and fell in love. A few years later my dad became king and took her as his queen. It’s said that the wedding was so beautiful that even the moon herself came to bless their happiness.”

Stiles relaxed his legs and let them dangle over the edge of the rock again. His eyes were unfocused as his head was tilted skyward. 

“Do you miss them?” Derek asked after a moment.

Stiles nodded once and closed his eyes, “Yeah. I do. I really do,” he ran a hand up through his hair.

“Today is the anniversary of my coming to Ka’Lyrin,” he whispered. Derek sat up, not once taking his eyes off Stiles. Stiles licked his lips and looked at Derek again. He gave him a half smile and shrugged.

“Do you know anything about the migratory patterns of grey whales?” Stiles asked.

Derek frowned, “No. Should I?”

He shook his head, “Not really. There was a pod of grey whales that would give birth to their calves near Hiems’ Obtutus. My mom and I would go there every season to assist the mother whales with the delivery. It’s an amazing thing—to see a calf take its first breath of air. The mom helps it get to the surface at first and then it’s all up to the calf. Newborns are so funny,”

Stiles laughed slightly, “There was one that I remember. Right after he took his first breath he tried to swim. But he could only swim backwards for some reason. That is unless he turned upside-down. He could swim forward if he was upside-down. Can you believe that? What a crazy calf he was,” Stiles laughed again. 

“Yeah,” Derek nodded, “One of my cousins was like that. Not swimming backwards or anything. But when he was little he would always beta shift and chew on every single pair of shoes he could find. It was the most stereotypical thing but it was so funny. He would literally sniff out any piece of footwear no matter where it was, just to chew it up. He commented that he liked how the leather felt between his teeth,” Derek shook his head with a small sigh, “He was crazy but he was the best tracker we had in the pack.”

“Does it hurt? To talk about them—your family—I mean?”

Derek looked long and hard at Stiles for a moment. He turned his gaze up at the moon, “A little. Sometimes it’s really hard to convince myself that they’re actually gone. I don’t think I’ll ever completely get over it. But maybe someday I can celebrate them for the lives they lived. I think it’s going to take a long time still,”

“Yeah,” Stiles agreed, “But that’s good Derek. That’s really good.”

Derek snorted slightly and tried to deny his grin. But he smiled nonetheless. He got his facial muscles back under control before looking at Stiles.

“All right, enough of this,” he gruffed, “I can’t feel my butt and I have yet to see anything amazing. Why are we here?”

“Uh,” Stiles rubbed the back of his head and looked slightly embarrassed, “It’s the whales. I found out a few years ago that their route back south takes them by here. Sometimes I can see them breaching with the calves. But I guess we must have missed them tonight. Sorry for dragging you all the way out here,”

Derek shrugged, “It’s fine. I really wasn’t doing anything. But now I wish you would have been able to see them—the whales that is,”

“Hey, don’t worry about it! I mean, it’s whatever. Well, I guess we should be getting ba—“ 

Just then there was the sound like an air compressor releasing air. Stiles quickly looked back out at the ocean and his face lit up.

“Derek! Derek they’re here, we didn’t miss them!” Stiles shouted excitedly. Derek followed Stiles’ gaze and saw a few geysers rise from the surface of the ocean. Just below them were the humps of whale heads. 

“Can you hear them? Do you hear them singing?” Stiles asked. Derek watched as more whales surfaced for air. He listened and heard the soft sound of the whale song. It was like a muffled coronet. There were high voices and voices pitched low among the sounds. 

Stiles laughed, a truly joyous sound, “Look! There are so many of them! There must be two pods out there!” Stiles cheered and raised his fist in to the air when a whale breached. 

“Yeah! There we go!” He cheered again, his voice bouncing off the rock and blending in to the chorus of whales. Another two or three whales breached the surface, their heads glinting silver in the moonlight.

“This is amazing,” Stiles breathed, “Grey whales aren’t known to breach so fully like that. This is just—wow!” He shook his head as another whale breached.

“Derek!” Stiles pointed out at a whale as it breached, “Do you see that one? That’s the calf I told you about—that could only swim backwards? Ha! Looks like he found himself a girl! Look at that! Oh my gosh! He’s got a calf breaching for air right next to him!” 

Stiles shook his head in amazement and put his hand back down on the rock. His fingers brushed against Derek’s. Both Derek and Stiles looked down at their touching fingers. Very slowly, they both looked back up at each other. In all the excitement, Stiles had drifted closer to Derek. Now their faces were only a few inches apart. Stiles’ gaze flicked down to Derek’s lips for a moment. The mer unconsciously licked his lips. Then, ever so slowly, Stiles leaned forward and pressed his lips to Derek’s. Stiles’ lips against his were chapped and a little cold, but Derek would have it no other way. After what seemed like an eternity, Stiles pulled away. 

Derek stared in to Stiles’ light eyes. Stiles now moist lips gave way to a small smile. On the cool rock, their fingers twined together. The silver moonlight fell over them like a blanket.

Stiles rested his forehead against Derek’s, “I’m glad you came with me tonight,”

“Yeah,” Derek breathed, “Me too.”

Then Stiles was kissing him again, soft and sweet. Behind them were the sounds of whales as they sang and breached. But for Derek he could only think of Stiles. The Stiles who had drug him down to the bottom of the ocean on a whim. This merman who had been torn from his family just like Derek had. They both had their pasts and were dealing with them at their own pace. But perhaps, Derek thought, maybe they could work through their darkness together. 

Stiles would be Derek’s anchor. Stiles was all the pack that Derek needed. But even that wasn’t true. There was Lydia too. Before Derek even realized it, he had already created a second home for himself. He belonged in Ka’Lyrin. He finally had a purpose there in that underwater kingdom. He had claws instead of fins and fangs instead of gills, and yet he was loved all the same.   
He grinned against Stiles’ kisses. The boy’s hand in his had never felt more right. This was how things were supposed to be. A werewolf and a merman. What an odd combination that couldn’t have been more perfect. Maybe Disney had it right the entire time. Perhaps things were better down where it was wetter.

Life was just better under the sea.


	5. Epilogue

“Derek! Derek!” Stiles shouted as he pushed the bookcase away from the hidden ladder, “Der—“ Stiles halted abruptly. The room was empty. Derek wasn’t sitting at the desk, wasn’t reading on the bed, and there were no sounds coming from the adjacent bathroom. Stiles frowned, his lower lip jutting out ever so slightly. He crossed his arms over his chest.

“Where could he be?” He mumbled. He scanned the room again—maybe Derek was trying to scare him—and his eyes fell on a note haphazardly thrown on the desktop. His long fingers curled around the edge of the paper as he lifted it to his hand.

_With Lydia._

_In Marketplace._

_–Derek_

Stiles sighed but there was a smile on his face nonetheless. He turned and disappeared up the ladder once more.

Stiles emerged from the alleyway in to the bustling marketplace. He looked left and right along the vendors but didn’t see Derek. There were a lot of people out today since it was so close to Seyfarlonk Day—one of the biggest gift giving holidays of the year. People were buying last minute presents to give in honor of Ka’Lyrin’s creation. Stiles frowned and stood on his toes to see above the crowd. After a moment he saw a wavy mane of strawberry blonde hair. He carefully made his way through the many bodies to reach Lydia.

“Lydia!” Stiles yelled over the din of the marketplace. The mermaid looked up at her name and turned to face Stiles. 

She smiled coyly at him, “Ah, Stiles. It’s been a while. To what do I owe this visit?”

He finally made it to her side, “Derek left a note. He said he was with you?”

“Oh yes,” Lydia said, “I should have known it would be about your faithful pet.”

“He’s not—“

“I know, I know. But really, could you not have just come to see me? Your most best friend in all the seven seas?”

“Lydia,” Stiles took her hands in his, “You know I love you like the sister I never had. I promise. I just have some really big news for Derek.”

“Oh fine,” she pouted with a hint of a smile in her eyes, “He’s grabbing an order of mine. He should be over soon enough.”

Stiles smiled at her, “Let’s have lunch sometime, all right?”

“Well,” She looked speculative, “I suppose that will suffice. Ah, there he is now.”

Both Stiles and Lydia turned to watch as Derek ducked out from under a vendor’s flag. He was speaking with the merchant who was smiling. Derek said something and the merchant laughed, slapping him heartily on the back. Caught slightly off-guard by the action, Derek had to readjust the items in his arms. He cradled them carefully and nodded to the merchant. With a grin on his face he straightened and moved towards where Lydia was waiting. When he caught sight of Stiles, his eyebrows rose in surprise. Stiles scoffed lightly and mumbled something about eyebrow game.

“I got what you ordered, Lydia,” Derek said when he was next to the two nereids. 

Lydia inspected the goods with a light eye before nodding, “Very good. Thank you so much. It’s just always such a hassle for me to talk with that merchant. But he seems to like you quite a lot.”

“I think he just prefers to make fun of my accent. He says my speech is very dry and it amuses him more than it probably should,” Derek replied with a half-shrug.

“How quaint. Anyhow,” she flicked a curl over her shoulder, “Stiles here says he has some news for you. He ignored my presence completely so you should feel special, Fido.” 

Derek frowned at the name, but retained a fondness in his eyes. He shook his head and then looked to Stiles.

“What is it, Stiles?”

A large grin broke across Stiles’ lips, “Great news! I got permission to schedule an audience with the Council! I can finally convince them to let you go back to the surface!”

“What?” Derek frowned, his forehead furrowing deeply, “That’s great news?” he mumbled to himself.

“Yeah,” Stiles nodded, “I can see them next week. Once they okay everything, you can go right back to the surface.”

Derek’s expression had fallen. His mouth was pursed in to a tight line.

“Stiles,” Lydia interjected slowly, “I don’t think Der—“

“That’s great Stiles,” Derek said before she could finish, “All your hard work is finally being noticed.”

Stiles beamed and reveled in the praise. He opened his mouth to say something but Derek turned away from him.

“Sorry Lydia,” the were grumbled, “But I think I’m going to go back for today.”

She nodded, “I understand.” 

Derek returned her nod and looked at Stiles. Stiles frowned when he saw anger and a bit of hurt in Derek’s eyes. Derek shook his head slightly and pushed his way past Stiles.

“Derek?” Stiles called after him, “Hey, wait! Ow!” he yelped as Lydia hit him in the arm.

“You idiot! Look at what you’ve done!” She hissed at him.

“What are you talking about?”

“Are you really planning on sending Derek back to the surface?”

“Well,” Stiles faltered slightly, “Yeah, I mean. That’s what I’ve been working towards this whole time. Besides, that’s what Derek wants.”

“Is it?” Lydia spat at him quickly, “Is that really what Derek wants? To return to a place that no one waits for him at a home that no longer exists? Do you honestly think that’s what Derek wants?”

Stiles stared at her for a moment, “He hasn’t said anything differently,” he mumbled.

“God you—“ She let out a frustrated breath and threw her empty hand in to the air, “I cannot believe how bad you two are at communicating. Honestly, I understand Derek is a little emotionally handicapped but you never shut up. You would think that it would come up eventually between the two of you.”

“Lydia what are you talking about?”

“Derek is totally in love with you! There is no way that he wants to leave here—leave you!” She practically shouted. She was absolutely livid. She groaned and pressed her fingers to her temples.

“I can’t even handle this right now. Listen up Stiles,” she pointed at him and he flinched, “You go and talk to Derek and tell him exactly what you think. Because I don’t want him to go so I know that you definitely don’t want him to leave either. Don’t even try to tell me I’m wrong because I’ve seen the way you look at him when you think no one is watching. So you march your butt to wherever he has gone off to sulk and talk straight with him. No codes, no stepping around things. Tell him your honest to god feelings. Or I swear to all the things that dwell beyond where the sunlight reaches I will bring so much misery upon your head you will wish you had never broken out of the egg sac.” So with that and a huff of breath, Lydia spun on her heels and clicked swiftly away from Stiles. 

Stiles stood there for a second. He was completely dumbfounded and it took his brain a few seconds to reboot. He then looked around and quickly headed the way Derek had. He made it to the alley way and saw that the hatch to the ladder had been left open. So Derek must have gone back to the room. Stiles nodded to himself and hopped down on to the ladder.

When Stiles dropped down from the ladder once more the room was dead silent again. Stiles frowned and pushed the bookcase aside. This time Derek was there. He was sitting at the desk reading a book. He didn’t even look up when Stiles entered. This made Stiles’ stomach drop uncomfortably. Derek usually greeted Stiles when he returned, even if it was late at night and he had already turned in for bed.

“Derek?” Stiles tried softly. 

Derek didn’t acknowledge him.

“Derek, hey can we talk?”

This time Derek turned to look at him. His green eyes were cold. It was the darkest that Stiles had seen those orbs in a long time. Stiles swallowed thickly because he was suddenly very nervous. 

“Uh, well,” he began, “It’s about my meeting with the Council.”

“What about it?”

“That is, I mean,” he chewed on his lower lip slightly, “Do you want to go home?”

Derek stared long and hard at Stiles before he answered, “I don’t want to be a bother.”

“Derek you aren’t bothering anyone,” Stiles said with an exhale.

“Are you annoyed with me?” Derek asked bluntly.

“What? No of course not!” 

“Just now—that was a sigh of relief wasn’t it? You’ll be happier if I’m gone.”

“Derek that isn’t true! You know it’s not true because you could hear if I was lying or not.”

Derek frowned and looked down. His fingers ran absently over the page of the book he had been reading. Stiles bent down so that he was looking Derek in the eye.

“Derek,” he tried again, “Do you want to leave?”

His throat bobbed as he swallowed, “No.”

“Okay then,” Stiles nodded, “You can stay here with me. Oh! Unless you want to stay somewhere else here?”

“No,” Derek said quickly, “I want to stay with you. If it isn’t a bother.”

Stiles laughed lightly, “It’s not a bother at all. I’ve been wanting to get a bigger place anyway.”

“You don’t have to—“ Stiles gave Derek a look, “Well, a kitchen would be nice.”

“It’s like we’re moving in together,” 

Derek shrugged, “We’ve been living together for the past four months. It won’t be that different.”

“How long will you be staying?” Stiles asked before he thought about it. A silence fell over the room and Stiles felt his throat tighten. His heart started to beat faster in his chest and Derek’s eyes flickered down briefly as if looking at the organ. He looked back up at Stiles and considered him for a moment.

“I don’t know.”

Stiles nodded, “Okay. That’s fine. But,” he paused and steeled himself, “If you ever decide to go back to the surface you’re going to have to take me with you.”

Derek frowned, “Why?”

“Because I don’t think I know how to live without you in my life anymore,” Stiles admitted truthfully.

The two stared at each other for a long time and neither of them said anything.

“Okay,” Derek finally said. His voice was soft and his green eyes had gained that warm glow to them again. Stiles felt himself breathe a little bit easier. But he knew he wasn’t done yet.

“Also, Derek?”

“Yeah?”

“ _Nakupenda_ ,” he whispered. It was the first time that Stiles had ever spoken to him in the language of the merfolk. It translated roughly to “I love you” in English. But there was so much more behind it. This was Stiles communicating to Derek in his native tongue and was the equivalent to speaking with his heart. 

Derek stared at Stiles and Stiles felt his cheeks heat up. He knew that his ears were tipped with pink as he waited for Derek’s response. Derek leaned forward, his breath warm against Stiles’ ear. Stiles felt his lips stretch in to a smile. 

_Mimi pia._

_Me too._

**Author's Note:**

> This is my Sterek Big Bang for the community on LiveJournal. All this week we will be posting our stories and sharing the art made by our wonderful artists! So keep an eye out for that. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!!!
> 
> Welcome back Teen Wolf! We missed you!


End file.
